He left the wine ordering to her, completely familiar with her taste now, and knowing he'd like whatever she picked. He had never imagined falling in to a relationship like this. Falling, because it had been a complete accident. As if he really had slipped and fallen, landing in the middle of her life. And he was loving every second of it. Despite his relationship hang ups, his fear of commitment and certainty he was doomed for disaster, he couldn't help but like this.
And how could he have hoped for someone as supportive as she had been? Some days he'd been a complete wreck. Refusing to leave bed, let alone the room they shared. And there'd been days she'd just stayed with him. Just been there. As if she would never go anywhere else. And he was, slowly, learning to believe that. If he trusted anything since being in the cage, it was Martha Jones. His funny, gorgeous and beyond intelligent Jones. So, why shouldn't he be telling her what was constantly on the tip of his tongue? He kept asking himself what the terrible outcome would be. He was fast running out of answers.
"Go wild, Jones. Have both. He shut the menu, handing it to the waiter. "I'll have Bugs. Sorry, the rabbit."